


The Tapes

by QueenHeadphones



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Caveline implied, Gen, I LOVE PRECANON, Portal Secret Santa 2016, TELL US ALL ABOUT WHAT APERTURE WAS PLS, precanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:31:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHeadphones/pseuds/QueenHeadphones
Summary: Two different tapes telling two different stories sit at the bottom of a box.





	

The first tape reel was thick with tape and dust, and had 'Investment opportunity-Dept of Defense-1952' stamped onto the label. It fit into the projector with a satisfied click and started the film at a brisk pace, as if it's happy to be returned to its original purpose.

While some of the film has faded and has holes, it was preserved well enough to run, and soon, an optimistic tune plays as a logo fades onto the screen. A sufficiently science-y looking design centered in the middle of an edged circle proudly announces itself as part of the  _Aperture Science Investment Opportunity Demonstration Reel_ , as the text below it displays. That image itself fades out to show a meticulously kept office, an organized desk, and a man sitting at it, writing something. The sign on the desk named him as 'Cave Johnson-CEO', and the self-satisfied smile and casual, yet sharp, dress named him as a person intent on taking the world by storm. He cast an off glance at the camera and returned to writing, only to look up again with feigned surprise.

"Oh," he stated breezily. "I didn't see you there!" He stood up and started ambling slowly across the office, the camera trailing alongside him. "I’m Cave Johnson,” he said casually, in case the viewer forgot who they were watching, “And I’m the man who owns the place. Built it on the sweat of my brow. I’m serious about that,” he clarified. “Sweat has salt in it and we found a way to mine it out.” As he walked and talked, the background behind him changed from the office to a laboratory, with scientists running experiments on all kinds of things. “For years, we’ve been pushing boundaries in science and technology, pressing forward to find the answers to life’s questions, even in the face of adversity.” Despite himself, the look on his face scrunched up, recalling past arguments. “Some people say, ‘No, Cave! You can’t just lie to people about what drugs you’re giving them just to sit back and watch the results!’, or ‘It’s not “ethical” to just remove someone’s organs and see if they can run a mile without them!’” He stopped and made a fist, waving it to punctuate his point. “Well, we’re not here to test ethics, and you’re not here for it either! You’re here for results!” Behind him, one of the scientist’s experiments burst into flames, setting a smoke alarm blaring, but Cave didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. “And boy, do we have _results_.”

“The greatest problems to plague any military are,” he explained as the scientists fanned down the flames. “Foot rot from wet socks, getting shot, and moving around without getting shot _or_ their feet wet. Well, we’re not some pansy ass sock makers, so you’re going to have to go somewhere else for that, and we couldn’t really fix the shooting problem. Kind of really the point of war,” he mentioned offhandedly. “But! We found something pretty great that could combat those problems without fuzzy socks or getting filled with lead. We asked each other, ‘What’s the best way to get an entire army in and out of an enemy base and move them around in a short period of time without someone noticing them?” He swung his arms wide out, compounding his point. “The answer: you don’t! You get something to move _them_!”

The camera followed him into a room that contained a chair and a switchboard covered in scientific looking buttons, overlooking a white room. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “’My military already has giant tanks and machines! We don’t need another.’ But this isn’t some people mover we’re talking about. It’s a hell of a lot more complicated.  What we have could change the very face of transportation and espionage as we know it.”

The smile on his face grew even wider. "And I know just the person to show it off." Excitedly, he turned and called to someone off the screen. "Caroline! Are you ready?"

_"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson!"_

The camera cut to the room in front of the switchboard. It had a white ceiling, white walls, and a white floor, and nothing was in it besides a ledge that was a foot off of the ground, a grate beside it, and a woman-Caroline, presumably. Fit and healthy, she was clearly in the prime of her life, judging by the grin she wore on her face. She was outfitted in a thick jumpsuit made out of flame retardant material, a pair of safety goggles on over her eyes, a utility belt, and a large backpack with a tube connecting out of it, which she held in her right hand.

He turned back to the camera. While his face still showed his previous enthusiasm, there was something in it that almost betrayed a bit of worry-the crook of the eyebrow, or the way that he drummed his fingers on the table. "Caroline here has volunteered to demonstrate our newest product for us today,” he explained. “Now, what we have is pretty experimental-it hasn't even really been tested out on people yet-but we here at Aperture feel that success doesn’t come without _some_ kind of risk.”

He turned back to her. "On my three?" he called to her, his voice betraying a hint of wariness. Despite his casual talk of risk and failure, his tone seemed to offer Caroline one last out if she wanted it.

She slid her gloves on, snapping them sharply over her hands. “On your three,” she called back. Whatever Cave Johnson’s feelings were; it was clear that Caroline’s decision was already made.

“I’m starting the count now,” he said cautiously _,_ his eyes straight on her. He flipped a plastic case on the dial board that covered a large red button. “One.”

She turned to touch a switch on her backpack and checked to make sure that it was lit. Keeping her hand on the switch, she repositioned the tube in her hand towards the ceiling, centering it in the crook of her shoulder and keeping her eye on her off-screen target.

“Two.”

She took a shooter’s stance, centering her feet, and took one last calming breath.

 _“Three!”_ The sound of a buzzer blared as Cave slammed his hand on the button. Caroline pulled the trigger on her tube, firing a pale blue stream of light at the ceiling. The tube’s recoil shook threw her, but she held her stance and her balance. Without hesitating, she flipped the switch on her backpack, pointed the tube at the ground, and fired again, this time a pale orange stream of light. As soon as it hit the ground, a large orange hole had appeared, and she fell through it.

Where she had fired the blue stream of light at the ceiling, a blue hole sat. Caroline fell out of it seconds later, slamming loudly on top of the grate. Landing on the balls of her feet to minimize the shock of falling, she stood deathly still, waiting.

Slowly, the grate that she had landed on top of began to rise.

Getting up from her landing position, Caroline waited patiently until it lifted her to the foot-high ledge, taking time to brush an errant lock of hair aside. Once the grate had reached the top of ledge, she stepped off sensibly and beamed a smile at the camera.

“The Aperture Science Stationary Scaffold,” she said matter of factly. “Is, in simple terms, composed of gas piston made of titanium, powered by chlorine trifluoride, and is able to lift up to ten thousand pounds.” She slid the safety goggles off. “And the chlorine trifluoride lets it clean itself, too.”

The camera cut back to Cave, who looked thrilled and far more relaxed. "Thank you, Caroline!" he called out excitedly. He stepped around the glass divide and made his way towards Caroline, the camera trailing him. "Caroline was part of the team that made this thing. She doesn't even need that scaffold,” he told the camera. “Strong as an ox, that one, and brainy as one too." He stopped, considering his words. "A smart ox. Anyways! Not only do they keep nice, but there are endless uses for them.” He motioned wildly to demonstrate his point. “Five or ten of these babies installed in the enemy base can get you anywhere you want to infiltrate, as long as it's a foot high. Stack ‘em on top of each other and you can reach even higher places!”

“Put them on top of a puddle,” Caroline offered, “And your armies won’t need to worry about foot rot anymore. They can just walk over them!”

Cave stopped in front of her and offered a rare pause, a look of surprise on his face. “I…I didn’t think of that,” he muttered quietly to himself. Caroline gave him another smile, smaller this time, and more self-pleased. “Always happy to help,” she said simply.

Cave nodded absentmindedly, his mind already spinning with the puddle related problems that the scaffold could solve. “Speaking of help, what’d you think of using it, Caroline?”

“Simple as pie,” she said calmly. “And safer than anything, thanks to the titanium. Replacing the tungsten was definitely one of our better ideas.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You think so?” he asked her inquisitively. Throughout the video, Cave Johnson had displayed that he made allowances for no man or law of nature, but it was clear that this young woman had his rapt attention. He kept his eyes on her as she continued her explanation.

“Sure!” she replied. “We got half a foot higher with this one.” At this, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Remember how the mark five kept…” A wince crept up on her face and her eyes scrunched up.

“Right, right,” he muttered back, considering her words. His eye caught the camera, and effortlessly, switched right back into business mode, as if the conversation never had happened. “Now, I know you’re bowled over right now,” he told the camera. “After all, we just showed you something that’s going to revolutionize espionage and transportation within the industry. But! Push past that bowled over feeling and dig deep into your pockets to make this a reality for your arsenal! Or stairs!”

“Or any puddle related issues!” Caroline chimed in.

Laughing, he moved closer to her and gave the camera a million-dollar smile. “Remember to make those checks out to Aperture!”

Caroline looked right into the camera and gave a Cave Johnson worthy grin. “Your name in science!”

Their smiling images faded, once again replaced with Aperture’s logo as a jovial tune played over it. All at once, the projector cut off, leaving the room in silence and darkness.

~~~

The second tape was at the bottom of the box. It didn't have a year or date on it, only BREEN written purposefully on it. The intro jingle was the same, but the logo had changed into the one that was indelibly carved into the clothes and skin and minds of Aperture. The logo faded out to reveal a thin, sickly looking man sitting at a desk and staring purposefully into the camera.  The man was Cave Johnson, but he was barely recognizable. Gone was the thick hair, the heavy bravado, replaced with a hunched back, red rimmed eyes, and a wan, vacant expression. His desk only bore a nameplate, an envelope, a glass of what looked like scotch, and a tissue box, one of its tissues which he clutched in his hand **.** He took a deep breath and stared purposefully into the camera. He carried himself like a general, like a man who had been tempered by time.

"I'm not here to mince words, Breen," he slurred. "I got your little offer in the mail." If time had tempered him, clearly it had not tempered his personality.

He picked up the envelope from his desk and waved it in the direction of the camera. "Your little missive was pretty detailed about everything that Aperture's been going through. The things with the missing astronauts, the lawsuits we're getting from experimenting on hobos, our mounting OSHA violations. Even more so, you're aware of my waning health, as you so carefully pointed out to me." The bitter look on his face morphed into a sneer as he reached for his scotch. "As if I wasn’t even aware,” he spat.

He took a breath and a drink of what looked like scotch and glared into the camera again, encouraged by alcohol and rage. "And you so  _generously_ offered to make all of that go away," he called out with false cheer. "All of it! If we did just one little thing for you: signing  _one_  little slip of paper saying that Aperture would be wholesale merged with Black Mesa. The nuts, the bolts, the desks, the chairs, the research, and _especially_ our experiments with quantum physics and space time."

He scoffed and shot a dirty look into the camera. "As if you haven't been putting your fingers into our pies already. You already have half of our work, now you're just trying to make it official." He leaned forward, closing in the space between him and the camera and lowering his tone.

"Well, believe it or not, Aperture's been doing fine before you came alongand it sure as hell doesn't need you now." He gripped the arm of his chair tighter, his hand shaking. "We dug ourselves into this hole, we can dig ourselves out. If you  _honestly_ think that we need your pity," he spat viciously, "or your charity, or anything you think you can give us," and at this he laughed bitterly, "Well, you're in for a hell of a surprise,  _Wallace_."

He pushed himself further into the camera’s lens.

"If you honestly think," he wheezed, "that we're going to even give you a paperclip from an Aperture desk, let alone the entire company, then you can  _take your offer and shove it up your a **ack!** "_ He gave another hard, extended cough into his tissue, staining it with flecks of crimson.

Slowly, the coughing jag subsided, and with it, the spirited look flickered back into his eyes. While winded, he managed to take a breath and shoot the camera another dirty look. “And here’s another thing you probably weren’t expecting.”

His hands shook as he reached for the scotch. “Aperture’s been lawyering up the past few years.” He chuckled bitterly to himself as he lifted the glass to his face. “It had to, what with our patents being snatched up faster than we could trademark them.”

“And while we can’t get our trademarks back, we were able to negotiate _one_ thing.” He took a deep, settling breath, and looked easily as he could straight ahead of him.  When I die, the entirety of Aperture is going to Caroline. She’s more than proved herself for it over the years.” He sat back, and despite his frail health, despite his bills and lawsuits, even despite the figurative shambles of Aperture lying around him, he managed the truly confident smile of his youth. “Once I die, Aperture is hers, lock, stock, and barrel. The nuts, the bolts, the desks, the chairs, the research, and _especially_ our experiments with quantum physics and space time." If it was possible for him to be giving a more self-gratified smile, he clearly had managed. “The whole thing is hers to change completely, or run into the ground if she wants.” One more dirty look into the camera. “And believe you me, she’ll be running this place in ways you can’t even _imagine_.” “So if you have any harebrained schemes you want to bring to us, or any more of your boys want to come in to steal our tech, you’ll know who to address.”

The tape fuzzed out, and cut to black. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, Jump-suited-monster! I’m your Secret Santa (secret new year baby now, I guess ;-;). You asked for a Cave Johnson stream of consciousness rant on some great Aperture technology, and I felt, what better way to represent that than a video demonstration? Even better, I got to watch the ‘Aperture Investment Opportunities’ ads for Portal 2, which wasn’t hard at all, tbh. :) I’m really glad that I got to write this, because as I went along, I learned that I really like writing Cave and Caroline together. They both have that Aperture brand sort of disconnect with reality to them, which means I get to write this airy, out of touch weirdness, along with snappy comebacks and intelligent conversation (no seriously, writing this fic had me learning about gas pistons, the strengths of various metals, different chemicals, words used in the 50s and 80s. This kept me busy!). So! I’m really excited that I got to explore Cave Johnson a bit, and I’m excited to do it again. I wish you a happy and busy year with good results and great writing!


End file.
